Back in ’87 or ’88, I remember going to the State Fair, and someone absconded with my automobile, now that, was somewhat traumatic. We walked up to this empty space in the middle of this huge parking lot, and the wife sez …. “Where’s the car?” and I point to the empty hole (that at one time had contained my automobile that I just owed four more payments on) and I said … “Right there.”
Then she says … “There isn’t anything there Don.” That was one of those …. My barn having burned down I can clearly now see the moon kind of life moments … I guess you had to be there to understand.
So many questions in today’s world, and not enough time.
Hopefully, this will be a letter perfect day for me, which I have to be totally candid about, are far and few between. Things seldom work out the way you have them planned. I had always thought upon my retirement that I would buy a motorhome and go to California, live on a river in the gold bearing areas of the state, and during the daylight and summer hours, dredge the bottom of some river or creek bed for gold.
The San Joaquin, Tuolumne Rivers would work, in the foothills of the Sierra’s. In the cool of the afternoon, we might find me sitting around thinking about profitable gold dredging techniques and untold riches stored in a Once A Day Vitamin jar.
No cell phone, pager, Email, just me an the miss’es, that old dog, a big fuel sucking Motorhome with “Driving Miss Lazy” lettered on the back and lots of chrome. Every testosterone loving sons’ American Dream.
It just naturally appealed to me, the adventure factor being there, the life and the time available to do what it is that you wanted to do. Thoughts of the Golden State of California, exciting, interesting things to do, and where to do it. Unfortunately, things did not work out, and it is just a careless fantasy now, but it was at one time, a surefire-bonafied for real dream.
Which in reality is a real bummer, because once you lose your dreams, well, there just isn’t much left.